


Marbles

by Ly_chan415



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, But it never happens, Character Death, Complete, Emotional Hurt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, I'm sorry ok, Kuroo and Akaashi appear like twice, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, No Smut, Self-Harm, Suicide, This is very weird I apologise, Unrequited Akaashi Keiji/Futakuchi Kenji, Unrequited Love, Why Did I Write This?, because someone dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ly_chan415/pseuds/Ly_chan415
Summary: Every time he feels pain. Every time he feels lonely and hurt.He swallows.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Futakuchi Kenji, Futakuchi Kenji/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 20
Kudos: 22





	1. Prologue

Futakuchi looked up from his plate, still filled with food, when he heard his phone alert him. He reached across the table to grab his phone on the other end of the table, where a clear space for another person had been set up. Dinner made for two, being eaten alone.

The food had gone cold on both plates.

Futakuchi continued to move his fork around for a couple of meaningless seconds, decided he wasn’t hungry, and stood to throw his dinner in the trash. He hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days, excluding the protein drinks he had on some mornings (once or twice in a week? He doesn’t bother counting.). Besides, it wasn’t like he wanted to. He didn’t really need it. After a moment’s thought, he leaned over and took the other plate. He threw the food on that plate in the bin too.

It wasn’t like Oikawa was going to come home to eat it. Really, it was his fault for not getting out of the habit of making meals for two.

Only then did he check the text message on his lock screen, the background a selfie with himself and Oikawa when they first began to date. Back then, they actually seemed to be properly in love. Futakuchi sighed to himself.

That was six months ago.

Kuroo had sent him a text, asking whether he had eaten.

Futakuchi stared at the message and shut down his phone. If Oikawa wasn’t the one asking over his health, then he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anyone else. It was his fault for being like this, wishing he was here, but it was no use.

But despite all of that, he still wished for it. He wished for lazy mornings with the sun in Oikawa’s sleeping face, Futakuchi just staring quietly as the other slumbered peacefully. He wished for getting random presents on no particular day, no clear reason apart from ‘Just because.’ How he wanted to hear the keys in the lock, the door swinging open and an ‘I’m home.’ No matter how tired he was and how much he wanted to sleep, he would wait to greet Oikawa with a warm ‘Welcome home.’ Just to see a fatigued smile from Oikawa, a small ‘Sorry for making you wait for me,’ to feel his gentle embrace, to feel his warmth and kindness and love.

They didn’t even have that anymore. Futakuchi would try to wait, he really did. But soon enough he realised that all of it was pointless, all that curling up on the sofa, shivering, waiting for a text which wouldn’t come.

It was all so, so painful, and Futakuchi only continued to stay up because he still wanted to believe in Oikawa. Because he was such an idiot, a stupid, stupid idiot who should know better. But every time he saw a perfect photo of Oikawa standing next to a famous actress or model online, perfect fake smiles and bodies standing way too close, the belief and trust slowly broke down, and it left Futakuchi with an ache in his chest, which could be fixed, but deemed to be incurable because the remedy he needed was out of reach.

Futakuchi, after looking at the clock and deciding that Oikawa was not going to text him, or call him today either, trudged back to his- their bedroom. He switched the ceiling lights on, not bothering to turn on the multi-coloured fairy lights which surrounded the walls just because Oikawa thought it would ‘look cool’.

Futakuchi flopped down on the bed, too big and lonely and cold to sleep alone. But he just had to bear it, because no one could fill up that large space reserved for Oikawa and Oikawa only. He laughed bitterly to himself and curled up on the mattress.

Silence.

And then, “Oh, I forgot to do that today.”

Futakuchi rolled off the bed and walked over to the bookshelf filled with magazines, which all had Oikawa featured in them, whether he was flashing his bright smile on the cover page, or just mentioned in a small article in the corner that could easily be missed. He stood on his tiptoes and reached for the rectangular metal can on top of it, then brought it back to the bed, sitting down. He unscrewed the lid.

Marbles.

Marbles filled the whole container, similar in shape, perfect spheres, a range of fiery reds, ocean blues and forest greens, an occasional happy yellow one popping up here and then. Marbles filled to the brim, gleaming, waiting silently for someone to take them out of the box. Marbles holding their breaths, a secret treasure chest waiting to be opened, for the light to hit them and make them shine. Beautiful, perfect marbles.

So unlike their relationship.

Futakuchi took one nearest to the top, a sapphire blue, a sparkling gem. He held it up to the light, admiring how the rays of white and gold scattered blue on his palm, like glitter. Like stars. Shining stars in the universe. The universe, so wide and never-ending, so big but so beautiful, making you feel entranced, trapped in the beauty, making you hold your breath, getting engrossed with every single part of it.

It reminded him of Oikawa.

Futakuchi stared at the marble for a few moments longer, taking in the beauty until it didn’t seem as bright as the before anymore. He lowered his hand, the marble dimmed and dulled, sparkle diminishing. He closed his palm, marble cold inside his hand.

He tilted his head a little bit higher, and brought his closed fist up to his mouth. He parted them, a tiny gap between his upper and lower lips. Everything stilled.

His grip loosened.

A few moments later, he swallowed.

He took in a sharp intake of breath as he felt his chest constrict slightly, almost coughing it back up. He held his breath to force himself to stay still.

His body relaxed. All Futakuchi was left with was a rectangular can, one marble lighter, and the emptiness and loneliness inside, feeling a little better. The physical pain in his body masked the bitterness, the tangle of emotions which was tied too tightly to unknot.

Futakuchi stood back up, closing the lid, and walked back to the bookshelf. He got onto his tiptoes and placed the can where it was.

He fell down onto the bed, chest still feeling tight, but being distracted enough to make him forget a little.

The pain and sadness was reduced to a dull ache now, and Futakuchi shut his eyes, throwing the covers on top of himself, far from happy, but near enough that he didn’t cry.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh this is such a weird fic so far.....  
> I really don't know why I wrote this  
> Oh well  
> Thank you for reading!


	2. Pain

The first time he swallowed a marble was when he was in the last year of primary school. He thought the marble was just really shiny candy and he ate it, expecting it to be sour (he was, after all, hungry. Hunger makes you eat before you think.), only to notice that the container the ‘candy’ was stored in clearly said ‘MARBLES’ on the label.

Only then did Kenji notice that the bland, rock-hard candy was in fact not candy. He went into a fit of panic afterwards, wondering whether he was going to die by choking, or the marble clogging up inside his throat and suffocating him, or some other painful ways of dying via swallowing a marble. (It would be a rather lame death, wouldn’t it?)

His fit of panic clouded his mind as he teared up, his young mind running in a frenzy as he tried to calm himself down. He eventually came to the conclusion that f he continued panicking and crying like this, he would die more quickly by speeding up the process of suffocation. He fell quiet as soon as the threatening thought flashed into his mind. 

Only after he searched up his predicament on Google and looked through a bunch of websites did he deem his situation safe. He found that the marble didn’t affect him that much, apart from slight constriction in his chest, which disappeared in less than ten minutes.

That was the day he realized that marbles may have a completely different purpose to what they were intended to be used for.

\---

Futakuchi mumbled to himself softly. “I swallowed one marble today… there are 100 in this bag, the first and last one I’m going to buy. I’ve swallowed 23 marbles already so I have 77 marbles left.” He continued to chant this under his breath, voice small and shaky, trembling in the massive bed. He weakly clutched onto the bedsheet as he continued to talk to himself, seeming delusional. He probably was, at this stage, but he couldn’t care about himself.

“And when all of the marbles are gone, I guess it’s over,” Futakuchi reminded himself, allowing a smile to grace his lips as he breathed in.

A tear rolled down his cheek and Futakuchi buried his head into Oikawa’s pillow, allowing the scent to suffocate and drown him. He sank into the murky depths of darkness, the pitch black of sleep.

\---

At first, he could bear with being alone in a flat too big for him. He told Oikawa that he didn’t mind moving out since Oikawa didn’t live in the flat anyway, but his boyfriend said that he could stay. It was probably compensation for him not being there, but Futakuchi just felt the size of the empty rooms mocking him, making him feel small. Sometimes, the pain was too much and he had to swallow the marbles. Recently, he’d been swallowing marbles for the tiniest things between him and Oikawa. Just not getting any messages for days and days, or seeing Oikawa on social media hurt Futakuchi more than it should. He thought he had gotten used to it.

_Apparently not._ Futakuchi laughed to himself as he ran his hands over the can, sharp ridges digging into his pale skin. Hard enough to leave marks and bruises, but not enough to draw blood.

Recently, he just couldn’t bear any of it, and he hated it for making him seem so weak. He was pathetic. He knew that this wasn’t sensible, that it was abnormal and wrong, but seeing a new Instagram post of Oikawa in Argentina standing next to a stunning woman, who latched onto his arm, beaming, was too much for him. He wasn’t even that famous yet; models and actresses who must’ve caught sight of him online or in a sports magazine were probably only interested in his perfect godly looks.

It made him feel sick, not at Oikawa, not at the women, but at himself for feeling this way. He knew Oikawa was a friendly, touchy person, nice to girls like a true gentleman, and it was no wonder that said girls would chase after him. Why wouldn’t they? Oikawa had the looks, the charm, the talent. He had it all.

Futakuchi had seen it all before, too. At least in Japan, Futakuchi could go up and say, ‘He’s my boyfriend, can you leave?’ (though he would obviously be much politer). Now, when they were so far away and apart from each other, he had no say in who Oikawa talked to and made friends with.

He felt disgusted with himself. Why should he have the choice of choosing who Oikawa could hang out with? He was disgustingly and overwhelmingly jealous, he knew that. And he also knew that Oikawa didn’t have such intentions (or so he hoped). But even though it still hurt. Logically, it shouldn’t. He knew his boyfriend was faithful, and that his jealousy was pathetic. He knew he was being illogical and stupid. He knew that Oikawa would never purposefully do anything to hurt him. He knew all these things, he really did.

But even so, the pain would make him stagger into the bedroom, snatch the container of marbles off the shelf and swallow the pieces of spherical glass, choking it down along with his tears and his anguish.

_It hurt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahhhh I have so much school work to do but oh well can't be helped  
> It's really short I'm sorry I'll swear the chapters will be longer soon :(  
> Thanks for reading :)


	3. Memories

Late at night, when Futakuchi was tired of everything and just wanted to curl up and disappear, memories would start resurfacing in his mind. Memories from times when he first met Oikawa. Memories when it was just the two of them, just a normal day with nothing particularly important but special all the same because they were together, and that made all the world’s difference to them. Memories from the last couple days with Oikawa before he had to leave.

He didn’t know why, but they would bring him one of two outcomes. They would either bring him a sense of serenity and lull him to sleep, or it would make him sob under the covers, his heart aching, missing Oikawa laying next to him.

Late in the night, Futakuchi would have memories.

\---

_The shocked atmosphere inside the shop was apparent as the two boys looked at each other, Oikawa holding a packet of strawberry laces and Futakuchi with five different packets (of which the contents seemed to be identical) sour gummies. The two were stuck to the spot, both of them not knowing how to react while the shop owner put out his cigarette to lean in to see what was causing all of the tension. (_ “Sexual tension,” _the old man chuckled.)_

_Oikawa swallowed. He had not seen the Date Tech captain since the Spring High preliminaries, and he did not imagine seeing the very pretty boy in such a short period of time. The other had caught his eye since their match by his witty tongue and ethereal attractive looks._

_“Uh, hi.”_ Way to go, Tooru, _he cursed himself._

_Futakuchi nodded back uncertainly._

_“Hello.”_

_The two looked at each other, unsure of what to say, Futakuchi genuinely wondering why Oikawa was there and Oikawa genuinely trying to check the younger captain out._

_They could both hear the old man laughing in the back as he observed the two. From his view of the situation, all he could probably see was:_

Oikawa: *clears throat* Awkward.  
Futakuchi: Awkward, awkward.  
Oikawa: *nodding gravely* Awkward, awkward, awkward.

_“Well, are you guys actually going to buy your sweets, or are you going to be standing here all day?”_

_The two ripped their eyes off each other, Futakuchi blushing as he mumbled out an apology, mortified, while Oikawa felt slightly disappointed._

_After the two had speedily bought their snacks, they walked to the bus stop closest to them. As they waited for a bus to approach, Oikawa spoke up, desperate to cut the thick tension._

_“So.”_

_“Why are you so nervous around me?” Futakuchi asked, raising his eyebrows._

_Oikawa instinctively answered, “Well, maybe it’s because you have a very pretty face... unlike your attitude.”_

_Once Oikawa had blurted out the words, Futakuchi’s mouth hung open, face flushing._

_Oikawa felt like melting down into a puddle of embarrassment._

_“Yeah um,” Oikawa muttered, “Sorry.”_

_They stayed silent for a few more minutes until the bus arrived. Just as Futakuchi was trying to board, Oikawa impulsively stuck his hand out and grabbed the other’s pale wrist. He frowned at Oikawa._

_“What?”_

_“Can I have your number?” Oikawa asked a little too quickly. The other brunet’s face registered surprise and he slowly reached into his pocket, making a small smile creep up on Oikawa’s face. When Oikawa let go, Futakuchi immediately jumped back on the bus, smirking as the doors shut. Oikawa let out a shocked gasp, trying to pretend that he was overexaggerating when in truth he was actually a little hurt. Normally, girls would ask for his number, not the other way around._

_As Oikawa stared at Futakuchi in disbelief, Futakuchi winked and mouthed,_ “Next time,” _as the bus drove off._

_\---_

_“So you came to my school?” Futakuchi asked, horrified, as Oikawa beamed at him, holding out his phone._

_“You never specified when ‘next time’ was, so I thought, why not today?” Oikawa flashed him a grin and winked. Futakuchi sighed, and went inside the gym to take out his phone._

_\---_

_Graduation._

_After a huge amount of teary goodbyes,with his underclassmen, friends and fangirls Oikawa left his school, running as hard as he could to one sole destination, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa and Hanamaki following from behind, going unnoticed._

_Oikawa, after what felt like years, arrived at a school, cherry blossom petals blowing into his face as he searched around._

**_-Date Tech High School-_ **

_There were too many people, too many crowding in the same place. Oikawa couldn’t find the one person he needed to see at the time he wanted to, and it was agonizing; he was getting impatient. He whipped his head around, searching for a familiar brunet between the heads of students and teachers alike, all giving flowers or receiving them, crying and hugging, saying their farewells and best wishes for the future._

_Oikawa didn’t care. He looked around, trying to find him._

_\---_

_He found him._

_A mop of brown hair, taller than the rest of the crowd. It may have been someone else, but a tugging sensation in his gut told him that his instinct was correct. He waded through the crowd, apologising for pushing a few people out of the way, and grabbed the brunet’s shoulder and turned him around._

_Tearful brown eyes._

_Oikawa sucked in a breath as he finally, finally saw Futakuchi Kenji. Absolutely beautiful Futakuchi Kenji, who was sniveling like a child with a runny nose as he huddled close to his upperclassmen._

_“Why-” Oikawa embraced Futakchi tightly._

_“Oikawa-san?”_

_Futakuchi’s upperclassmen and current teammates were looking at Oikawa strangely, wondering why he was at their school, and why he was hugging their captain._

_“Futakuchi-kun.” They were all surprised at his voice, soft, sincere, so different from the times when the team had heard him speak before during matches. It made them quiet._

_Futakuchi stopped struggling in Oikawa’s grip._

_“What is it, Oikawa-san?”_

_Oikawa breathed in, then out, letting go of the last bits of cowardice through his exhale._   
_“I’ve graduated.”_

_A faint smile appeared on Futakuchi’s face and he teased him, “I think that was pretty obvious.”_

Here comes the hard part.

_“I’m leaving.” The smile fell off his face in a millisecond as Futakuchi looked rather confused, trying to process the meaning of those words._

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Argentina. I’m going to train there. For volleyball, I mean. And uh, I just wanted to-”_

_“Congratulations, Oikawa-san!” Oikawa looked up in utter astonishment. “Congratulations,” Futakuchi repeated, a brilliant smile on his face, “I wish you the best of luck in your volleyball training.”_

_“No, I mean, I wanted to tell you something and- and I needed to make sure that you knew before I left- just in case, you know, I couldn’t see you again before I leave, and I- uh-”_

_Futakuchi lay a gentle hand on Oikawa’s arm, letting it rest there. He smiled and told him in a warm, cozy voice; “Take your time.”_

_Oikawa took his time._

_Eventually, the confidence from when he had embraced the other in the first place flowed back to him, and he looked into Futakuchi’s eyes, chocolate irises, open and inviting._

_“I love you.”_

_"I always loved you, ever since that day you beat me on Mario Kart at my house because we betted on your sour gummy supply. I always loved you whenever you would roll your eyes at me to tell me that I was a huge idiot. I always loved you when we were playing volleyball together in my garden and we managed to hit Iwa-chan next door on the head when my serve missed."_

_"I love the time I spend with you."_

_And it was true. Every part of him, the time spent with the other for such a short, yet such a long period of time told him that yes, he had grown undeniable feelings for the younger boy. The times they spent together playing Mario Kart, or the times they went shopping for new volleyball shoes for Futakuchi on his birthday, or spending Christmas Eve together because Oikawa’s fifth girlfriend had dumped him because he ‘_ wasn’t acting as he loved her’ _. All of it made him slowly, too slowly, perhaps, acknowledge the wonderful whirlwind of emotions in his fluttering chest._

_He voiced it out clearer._ “I love you.”

_He was shocked to the core when a pair of soft lips pressed against his, dry and badly chapped from his nervous tic of biting on his lower lip._

_A cheeky smile. “You late, late,_ bastard. _”_

\---

Yes, Futakuchi has memories like that about Oikawa. Memories he would never forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol this chapter seemed slightly more nicer, didn't it? Well, I hope it did, anyway.  
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Love

He stood in the bathroom after he had washed away the tear stains.

Futakuchi snorted as he looked in the mirror. His reflection stared back at him; bags under his puffy eyes tinted deep purple, skin paler than a sheet, chin pointed alarmingly. Futakuchi continued to stare, his sense of looking “normal” being slightly twisted from the time spent alone.

Yeah, he still looked okay. Not the best he had ever looked, he would admit, but presentable enough to not catch any unwanted attention.

He walked out of the bathroom and tossed the container on the bed. He grabbed his jacket and left the flat. He didn’t bother putting the can back in its proper place.

It was going to be left in the exact same place when he came home.

\----

“Hey, Futakuchi?”

Futakuchi looked up from his phone and placed his cup of coffee down on the table.

“Yeah?”

The black-haired man who sat opposite him gave him a worried look.

“Are you okay?”

Futakuchi’s breath hitched a little, reminding him of the marbles he swallowed in the morning. He forced a smile, dropping his gaze to his laptop screen so that the other couldn’t tell whether his smile reached his eyes. After a few moments of silence, Futakuchi felt a large hand ruffle his hair.

“I don’t know what I can do for you in this kind of situation, but tell me if you need anything, all right? After all, I am your senior. I want to help you.” Kuroo smiled gently at him and let go of his head, leaving Futakuchi a bit warmer and a lot more loved.

“Thank you, Kuroo-san, but I’m really fine. Besides, I’m used to all of this. It’s nothing.” Futakuchi offered a smile, which Kuroo could tell that wasn’t genuine. Futakuchi looked like he was about to cry.

Futakuchi saw an email notification on his screen, opened it and screwed up his face. “Ew, I have to go. I’m sorry-"

Kuroo patted his head again and said, “Talk to me if you need me.”

A surprised look registered on the brunet’s face before he smiled again, this time a little more truthful than the ones before. “Okay. Bye, Kuroo-san.”

After Futakuchi had left, Kuroo was left alone sipping on his coffee.

“...I really don’t think that you should get used to being alone.”

\---

**Kuroo:** Hey Akaashi?

**Akaashi:** Hello, Kuroo. What is it?  
**Akaashi:** Do you need Bokuto?

**Kuroo:** Oh no it’s fine  
**Kuroo:** You know Futakuchi?

**Akaashi:** Has he gone worse?

**Kuroo:** He looks bad. Like, really bad. He told me he hasn’t eaten in days  
**Kuroo:** He told me he had protein shakes but that is definitely not enough  
**Kuroo:** He seems so fine with himself though. It should be hurting him way more than he shows. Kuroo: I don’t know how he’s coping and hiding his emotions, but it’s not good for him to keep them bottled up

**Akaashi:** I told him to eat. I told him to tell me anything, to talk to me about his problems.

**Kuroo:** I did too.  
**Kuroo:** He didn’t listen.

**Akaashi:** I’ll make him eat. I know I can do that.  
**Akaashi:** I’ll try and talk to him too.

**Kuroo:** I hope it works, you’re probably better at convincing him.

**Akaashi:** He should break up with Oikawa. I don’t want to see Kenji hurt.

**Kuroo:** Same, but he would never do that. You know him.

**Akaashi:** I’ll talk to him.

**Kuroo:** Thanks, Akaashi

**Akaashi:** No problem.

—-

“Hi, Akaashi.” Futakuchi waved at him.

Akaashi didn’t acknowledge this and instead he walked straight over, grabbing Futakuchi’s shoulders. “Kenji, I’m going to warn you.”

“Huh?” Futakuchi blinked.

Akaashi grimaced. Futakuchi felt fragile under his touch. He felt like if he had grabbed him any harder he would shatter into a million pieces.

“You should break up with Oikawa.”

There was a pause.

“Why?” Futakuchi tilted his head. The sheer amount of utter confusion Futakuchi conveyed through his gaze was almost choking Akaashi. He held down the urge to literally shake some sense into the other boy.

“Because you’re getting hurt. I don’t want to see you like this. Neither does Kuroo.” Akaashi paused, thinking about his next words carefully. “I know it hurts, but you’re better off without him, Kenji.”

“Keiji?”

“What?” Akaashi was cautious.

“I can’t live without him.“

His grip on Futakuchi’s shoulders tightened, despite Futakuchi trying to pull him off.

Akaashi felt pain. It engulfed his body, envy coursing through his veins, sadness, exasperation for the brunet’s undying love towards Oikawa, and anger that Oikawa didn’t bother telling him that he felt the same. He deserved better. He deserved the best.

And if being the best was what Futakuchi deserved, Akaashi would become number one at anything and everything.

“You can. You would be better. He’s tying you down. Kenji, you can choose any other person. They wouldn’t leave you lonely like this.”

Futakuchi laughed. It was a beautiful, broken sound.

_“I love him.”_

Akaashi sucked in a breath, felt something inside him die. Love. Futakuchi. Love. Love for a man who was miles away. Love for a man who wasn’t even there. Love, directed towards someone else. Love.

If Akaashi were Futakuchi’s, and if Futakuchi were his, then Akaashi would make sure that Futakuchi knew. He would be telling him that he loved him for the littlest of things, from the way Futakuchi’s hair would spread over white sheets as he woke up with a sleepy yawn and a sunlit smile, to the way Futakuchi smelled of something sweet and intoxicating whenever Akaashi latched onto his back and inhaled his scent. He would say ‘I love you’ whenever Futakuchi laughed, and when Futakuchi would be angry in a stupid little argument over who had to do the laundry.

Because Futakuchi was special. Something about the way he smiled made Akaashi feel a way he had never felt before. It was love.

And something about the way Futakuchi told Akaashi that he was dating Oikawa, the way he smiled so happily when he said it, the way he shyly looked at him to see how he would react. It made his whole world crumble. It broke his heart.

Akaashi would say ‘I love you’ a million times more than Oikawa had ever managed to.

“But have you ever heard him tell you that he loved you?”

“Sometimes. I heard it a lot when he first went to Argentina.”

“What about now?”

Futakuchi didn’t reply.

Akaashi sighed. “Kenji, see? It’s pointless. You could be so much better off-”

“But I still love him. I want to be with him. He’s letting me stay by his side, even if he doesn’t love me. That’s more than enough. It’s okay.” Akaashi could hear the slightly rushed words and the panic in Futakuchi's voice, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself that it really was okay.

“But he isn’t with you - he’s left you alone in a flat meant to be shared together. He’s never home. He’s not there for you to stay by his side anyway.”

“It’s because he can’t come home often, since he has training in Argentina most of the time, and he has all of those magazine interviews when he’s back in Japan. I told you, it’s fine. I don’t mind as long as he doesn’t throw me away.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“Kenji...” Akaashi looked pained. He looked like Futakuchi had torn his heart out from his chest, thrown it on the ground and stomped on it with all his strength.

“Yeah, Keiji?”

_“You’re crying.”_

Futakuchi felt his cheek. It was wet. Another tear rolled down his face.

Oh no. He had told himself to make sure not to cry in front of people, and now look at him.

_Crying like a lovesick idiot._

All at once, he felt his walls break down, and he slowly leaned against Akaashi, trembling, crying, hiding his face from everyone else, hiding away from the rest of the world. Akaashi let go of Futakuchi’s shoulders and wrapped his arms around the brunet, rubbing his back silently, holding him close, as close as he was allowed to be without stepping into the space reserved for Oikawa.

Akaashi quietly whispered, too quiet for Futakuchi to hear over his sobs.

“Why do you love him, Kenji?”

——

After Futakuchi had calmed down, Akaashi bought dinner for himself and Futakuchi, making sure that Futakuchi finished all of it. The latter apologised for making him pay, but Akaashi merely smiled.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Keiji.”

Akaashi left, but not before saying ‘Good night’ to the brunet. Futakuchi was left in his flat once again. Left alone once again.

However this time, Futakuchi felt something nice and warm in his chest, despite the solitude. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel lonely.

He didn’t swallow a marble that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE AKAASHI THIS SAD T^T  
> I didn't even consider AkaFuta at first but when I asked my friend "Who should be the pining best friend of Futakuchi who's hopelessly in love and he won't tell the other because he knows he has no chance? But he's still in love with Futakuchi?" they said "Akaashi" and I went with it and NOW I FEEL HORRIBLE :( 
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading!


	5. Jealous

Futakuchi was on the sofa, body sinking into the cushions as he flicked through the channels. There’s nothing interesting on, he thought to himself and proceeded to put the remote down, when he heard rapid Spanish chatter from the TV. He froze.

There, on the screen, was Oikawa.

Futakuchi was frozen, rendered completely speechless.

It had been so long since he had heard Oikawa’s voice, and Futakuchi listened to the soothing sound; it was exactly as he remembered it. His Spanish sounded foreign as it rolled off his tongue so naturally, as if it were his first language.

Futakuchi had no clue what he was saying, but he could definitely tell that he was doing well.

He smiled. “I’m so glad that you seem to be fine,” he said, aloud to the TV, body relaxing as he watched Oikawa laugh at something the man beside him had said.

Then, the man disappeared, only to be replaced with a gorgeous blonde-haired reporter, smiling artificially, but looking beautiful nonetheless, as she started to converse with Oikawa. Futakuchi’s heart raced and he could feel his nails cut into his palm as the pair on TV chuckled together at something one had said. The woman stood too close, and yet Oikawa didn’t seem to care.

Futakuchi really should’ve stopped watching them. He should’ve turned off the TV. But he continued to watch.

…

He felt something inside him break again when he saw Oikawa casually sling an arm around the reporter.

They looked perfect together, a fairytale princess and prince.

Futakuchi grasped weakly at his chest, feeling pain course through his body as he staggered to the bedroom, breath coming in quick pants as he reached for the can of marbles. He pulled one out, not even having the time to register its colour and swallowed it. He felt the glass sphere roll down his throat and he let out a sigh. His breathing had slowed and his feeling of panic and sadness had reduced a little. Futakuchi heaved and fell on the bed, burying his face into the cold mattress.

_It hurt so much._

He let out a soft whimper as he wrapped his arms around himself.

\---

"Is Kenji not here today?" Akaashi asked, concerned, to Kuroo, who shook his head despondently as he typed away on his computer, eyes scanning the screen. 

"No. I tried to call him but he wouldn't pick up. I got worried but I can't go check on him today yet." The two grimaced at the same time, and the younger boy didn't hesitate in checking his schedule again. He let out a thankful sigh when he saw that he was free for the rest of the day. He tapped the rim of the coffee cup which Kuroo was about to take a sip out of, and said man looked up, raising an eyebrow. Akaashi checked his timetable once more, then took a breath in.

"I can go if you would like." Akaashi offered up, and Kuroo looked up, looking relieved. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes." When Akaashi nodded, the man sitting in front of him ran his large hand through his messy bedhead, trying to ease out all the stress he was feeling from before. 

Kuroo gave him a quick pat on the back. "Thanks. Tell me how he is later." Akaashi nodded and left. 

\---

"Kenji?" Akaashi allowed himself to enter Futakuchi's flat with the spare key, frowning when he noticed that the lights were off. He ventured to the kitchen, to the bathroom, and when he found no one there, he proceeded to go to the brunet's bedroom. 

He was about to knock when he heard sobbing from inside. He guiltily stepped back, at once feeling shame for entering Futakuchi's flat without his permission. He pondered on what would have been a better choice when he abruptly noticed that he couldn't hear anything behind the door.

Everything was quiet; it was like the sound had been sucked out from the universe at that moment. The crying was gone. He heard no movement, no shuffle of footsteps. 

_Nothing._

It gave him an uneasy feeling.

Akaashi flung the door open, not caring about Futakuchi's privacy whatsoever because he was just so damn worried.

He bit back a gasp when he saw Futakuchi curled up on his bed, unmoving. The first instinct was that he had fallen asleep, but something was definitely _off_.

Akaashi ran over in horror and shook him by the shoulders violently. 

"Kenji, are you alright? Kenji, answer me."

He continued for a few minutes, and just when he was about to call Kuroo for help, Futakuchi opened his eyes, and Akaashi could feel his heartbeat again. 

"Thank god, Kenji, are you all-" 

_"...Tooru-san?"_

The name which Futakuchi uttered out made Akaashi feel like he was falling. 

Futakuchi really, really wanted Oikawa. 

He needed him. 

_He loved him._

And the downright simple fact made Akaashi's heart shatter into pieces. 

_It hurt so much._

Without saying another word, Akaashi wrapped his arms around the other boy, wishing that he would look at him even for one second and to take his eyes off the stupid, stupid Oikawa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I KNOW THAT THIS IS VERY SHORT I'M SORRY THE NEXT CHAPTER IS LONGER I PROMISE YOU  
> But oh my gosh I was reading this bit as I was editing it and I felt terrible for making Futa suffer :(  
> Next chapter is fluffier (And I'm posting it right away) I promise  
> Thanks for reading :DD


	6. Birthday

It was Futakuchi’s birthday, and he had just assumed that Oikawa would either forget, or just be too busy to do anything. So when he got back from his birthday party (which was hosted by Kuroo), he was surprised to see that he had 5 missed calls and a neatly wrapped birthday present waiting on his doorstep.

He smiled, the five notifications on his bright screen lighting up his day. He felt terrible not to have noticed, but he was glad that Oikawa didn’t forget.

His smile widened further when he saw that he also had texts from Oikawa:

**Oikawa Tooru ❤️:** You’re probably busy, right? Or asleep? It's quite late in Japan right now, isn't it? It would be nice if you could call me back when you have time.

 **Oikawa Tooru ❤️:** Happy birthday Kenji. I love you.

Futakuchi felt like he was going to explode from happiness. He tapped Oikawa’s number and waited patiently for the latter to pick up.

He let out a satisfied sigh when he heard Oikawa’s voice.

“Kenji?”

“Tooru-san.”

“Happy birthday, Kenji.”

“Thank you, Tooru-san. By the way, I got your present. Thank you so much.”

Futakuchi heard a tinkling laugh from the other end of the call, making his heart flutter and a shy smile crept upon his face.

“I hope you like it. Also, I'm sorry. I've been really busy lately. Coach is making me play in every game we have since my leg's healing faster than expected.”

Futakuchi shook his head, then remembered that Oikawa couldn't see him. "It's okay. As long as you're doing well, then I don't mind."

"Thank you, Kenji." Oikawa said softly, and Futakuchi could feel the rest of the world melt away.

There was a brief comfortable pause while the two wondered what to say without seeming weird. Oikawa cleared his throat.

“Uh... how are you, Kenji?”

Futakuchi froze. Oikawa mustn’t ever know about the marbles. He had to guard this secret with his life. He didn’t want Oikawa to judge him, and he didn’t want to worry Oikawa either - it was the last thing he would ever wish for.

_What if he realised that he was swallowing marbles and started to hate Futakuchi? What if he thought he was crazy?_

The mere thought made Futakuchi's body tremble, and he pinched his thigh until the skin turned ghastly white. After a few moments of not speaking, Futakuchi let go of his leg, now bruised and a purple bruise formed. He steadied his voice.

“I’m good, Tooru-san. How are you?”

Oikawa laughed and proceeded to talk about what had been happening recently in Argentina, and Futakuchi had to admit that listening to Oikawa talk was the best highlight of his birthday, despite feeling his gut clench at every female name Oikawa mentioned.

“....and yeah, Alex really helped me out recently when I almost overworked myself. She gave me food; she makes killer pancakes. And her mum's blueberry jam? Perfection. I think you would be great friends with her; you two should meet up sometime!”

Futakuchi felt his stomach churn as another woman came up.

_It’s terribly selfish of me_ , he thought bitterly, _to be jealous._

_Oikawa’s extremely handsome. He’s one of, if not the most handsome person I’ve ever met. Honestly, it’s one of the multiple reasons why I fell for him…_

_He’s got women practically begging on their knees for him in Japan, so of course he’s going to be popular with the ladies in Argentina too. It makes sense. But I’m a disgusting person for feeling like this,_ the brunet thought to himself.

“Hey, Kenji? Are you okay? It’s pretty late in Japan, right? You can go to bed, sorry for keeping you up.”

Futakuchi was suddenly jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of Oikawa’s voice over the phone again. He shook his head, clearing his mind.

_Oikawa having the time to talk to me is rare: I can’t waste it. Now is not the time to wallow in your self-pity, Kenji._

“No, it's fine. It's morning in Argentina, isn't it? Besides, I was happy to hear you on my birthday. It was the best gift I could ask for.” He tried to clear the despondency from his voice, and apparently it worked, or Oikawa chose not to notice, or he didn’t care.

“Ah, then maybe you didn’t need my present?” A cheeky voice asked him playfully and Futakuchi proceeded to disagree childishly. Oikawa burst into laughter and Futakuchi knew that he would swallow a million marbles to hear Oikawa laugh like this again.

“I’m joking Kenji, you can keep your present.”

There was comfortable silence, then Oikawa spoke up.

_“I love you, Kenji.”_

His worries melted away, even if it was just for that single moment.

Everything was perfectly fine again. Even if it was only temporary.

A small smile graced Futakuchi’s lips as he replied with a soft, “I love you too.”

\---

“Oikawa gave you a birthday present?” Kuroo raised his eyebrows as he sipped in his coffee. The two were together in their usual meeting place, a cute little cafe near their university.

“Yeah.” Futakuchi was smiling constantly the entire day, eyes sparkling as he laughed. Kuroo felt his anxiety towards the boy lessen. He looked much better than before. He looked alive.

At the same time, he felt conflicted. Oikawa’s actions, words, and gestures could change Futakuchi so much. A single word could make Futakuchi’s world light up, but just a single word (or lack thereof) could also make him fall into despair.

Kuroo didn’t know whether it was a good or bad influence.

“What did he get you?”

“A teddy bear.”

“What?”

“He got me a teddy bear.”

Kuroo paused, processing this new information.

“Oikawa, a 21-year-old fully grown man, a professional athlete and well-known celebrity, bought you, a 20-year-old fully grown man, his dear boyfriend, a teddy bear.”

“Yes!” Futakuchi grinned widely.

“And it’s making you this happy?” Kuroo asked incredulously.

“Of course!”

“I’m actually concerned about Oikawa’s gift-giving ability.”

“Why? It’s really cute. I named him Tooru. Do you want to come and see him?”

Kuroo tried to stop the impulse to say "No."

He sighed. “I mean- if you say so.”

“I’ll get Keiji too!” Futakuchi proceeded to call Akaashi to ask whether he wanted to come over. The response was immediate; Akaashi agreed rather excitedly (judging from the laugh Kuroo heard from the other end of the call) without hesitation, and Futakuchi ended the call.

“He’s coming too!”

Kuroo briefly wondered about Akaashi and how the boy would prioritise Futakuchi over anything else. It’s rather strange, Kuroo thought to himself. Akaashi was usually the one observing in the back, quietly making sure that things were under control. He had been since high school, but Kuroo had noticed a change in the younger boy's personality since Futakuchi appeared in both of their lives. He only would act like this, being kind and gentle openly in front of Futakuchi-

_Hold up._

Kuroo used his brain.

Oh.

Kuroo realised the truth and refrained from frowning.

_Oh._

Kuroo was about to facepalm. Why did he not notice? It was so obvious. He was so stupid; how did he not realise?

More importantly though, he remembered Akaashi’s forlorn expression every time Oikawa’s name came out of Futakuchi’s mouth, and how his face darkened every time Futakuchi looked upset because of said man. Kuroo felt something twist in his chest: sympathy for Akaashi.

Kuroo felt bad for him because no matter how much Oikawa left Futakuchi alone, or how hard Akaashi tried to gain the brunet’s attention, Futakuchi would never have his eyes on anyone apart from Oikawa.

Akaashi could never replace the Oikawa-shaped hole in Futakuchi’s heart. No matter how hard he tried.

It was impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay finally Oikawa actually appeared in the fic  
> Next chapter is angsty ;-; sorry   
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Glass

Christmas being spent alone was not something which made Futakuchi happy. 

  
  


He was lonely. 

Sure, he received a brief call from Oikawa on Christmas Eve, but that was cut short quickly when Futakuchi heard distant chattering from Oikawa’s end of the call. Oikawa had hung up on him afterwards, and he hadn’t called him back since. When he had asked whether he was coming back for the New Year, Oikawa’s response was a quick ‘No.’ 

What’s worse was that he didn’t even tell Futakuchi why. 

Futakuchi could envision Oikawa laughing with some other woman, grinning at each other happily, drinking together. Oikawa probably doesn't care about him right now.

Futakuchi felt sick. 

It was the worst Christmas he’d ever had. 

  
  


\---

  
  


Futakuchi had his phone in his hands. He was casually looking up some random things on Google to see whether there was anything interesting when he saw the **‘BREAKING NEWS’** pop up on his screen. He clicked on it mindlessly. He didn’t mean any harm, he was just curious about what had happened. 

  
  


He felt his world shatter when he saw Oikawa’s name in the headline, along with a woman’s name that he didn’t recognise. What truly broke his heart, though, was the picture that accompanied the writing. 

It was Oikawa holding hands with one of the most beautiful women Futakuhi had ever seen. Their fingers were intertwined. Futakuchi nearly dropped his phone from sheer shock. 

The shop they were in. Jewellery hung from the shelves and in glass cases. Diamonds glittering on gleaming ropes of silver necklace. Earrings and bracelets covered in jewels. Gold. The shop’s interior glowed with harsh light, making the twinkle in the gems harsher than they should be in the artificial light. Upon closer inspection, Futakuchi could see what the pair in the photo were looking at. 

Engagement rings. 

Everything went dark in front of him. Futakuchi felt like he was going to choke. He couldn’t breathe. His chest tightened, something inside him was on the verge of snapping. He stared at the article. 

‘Secretly dating?’

‘Buying rings together.’

‘Seen to be entering the shop together and came out with the store’s bag in Oikawa’s hands.’ 

‘Buying engagement rings?’

  
  


_Snap._

Something inside him fell apart.

Futakuchi was drowning. He had sunk to the bottom of the ocean, cold water filling up his lungs. Inky black swirled in front of his eyes. He clawed at his throat. He couldn’t breathe. Oikawa’s face flashed even behind his closed eyelids, causing a heart-wrenching sob to tumble out from his mouth. Waves of pain crashed down on him, crushing him, smashing his hearts to bits. Cruel voices echoed in his mind, betrayal threatening to kill him. 

_Liar. You cheat._

He couldn’t open his mouth. It was like glass shards had been poured down his throat, cutting up his insides, making him bleed out.

_Glass._

Futakuchi stood abruptly and rushed to his bedroom, probably knocking several things over in the process. His mind was too cloudy to notice, let alone react. He slammed the door open, took the marble can off the shelf and smashed the contents to the ground. 

  
  


Glass shards scattered the room, some cutting into Futakuchi’s feet. Red liquid trickled out of the cuts. Futakuchi grabbed the pieces in his hand, sharp edges slicing his palm and his wrist, making him wince. He tilted his head back and swallowed, hoping that it would get rid of all the pain, like it happened with the marbles. Instead, the glass burnt his insides, making him fall to his knees, crying out in agony. He coughed and blood dripped from his mouth. Tears streamed out of his eyes as he snatched up the pieces, swallowing them, trying to make all of the pain disappear. 

“Why....?”

  
  


It didn’t work, but Futakuchi kept on swallowing. 

_“Tooru, Tooru,_ _Tooru, Tooru…_ ” He could only utter out his lover’s name as he swallowed, and his tears poured down his cheeks and dripped onto the glass. Whenever he placed the shards in his mouth, they were salty from the tears. The insides of his mouth hurt, the glass cutting up everything inside. 

  
  


Why wasn’t it working?

The pain would usually be gone by now. He would be okay, his feelings would reside and calm. Why wasn’t it working now? 

He continued to take the pieces and shove them in his mouth. He could taste iron from the blood, but he didn’t stop; nothing else could make him stop anymore. He wanted every single bit of pain to disappear. Everything was getting jumbled up, confusing Futakuchi’s mind. 

All of it hurt so much. 

He wanted to disappear. 

He was worthless. 

He wasn’t worth Oikawa. 

  
  


He had known that since the beginning. 

Futakuchi was weak now, hands trembling and bloodied. He grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and whimpered. He couldn’t speak. His throat was burning up like it was on fire. His body felt too cold, like his life was disappearing from him as the seconds passed. He wanted to curl up and cry his heart out, scream for Oikawa to save him, to reassure him. 

Tears rolled down Futakuchi’s face- sobbing made his throat hurt even more. He wanted Oikawa by his side. He wanted him to be there for him. But it was all useless because Oikawa didn’t love him anymore. He wanted to move his body, call for help, but he couldn’t speak anymore. He couldn’t open his mouth without bits of glass and blood pouring out of his throat. It was painful. He felt like his heart was getting stabbed, over and over again. His mind was begging for help, desperate for the broken pieces to be stuck together again. 

  
  


“Tooru…” He whimpered out with the last of his strength, body threatening to give out from the dizziness and from the loss of blood. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

“...Kenji?”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about this chapter.  
> This fic is nearly coming to an end and I don't want it to continue from here it makes me sad ;-;  
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Goodbye

Futakuchi moved up his gaze to find Oikawa’s face, one he hadn’t seen in real life for ages. Oikawa was staring down at him in horror as he watched his boyfriend bleed on the ground, fragments of glass surrounding his body. Futakuchi’s lips were painted red. 

“No...”

Futakuchi couldn’t speak anymore, but the sight of Oikawa’s face made him smile sadly. _It must be an illusion. Oikawa is in Argentina. He isn’t meant to be here._ Nonetheless, he tried to move away from the taller man so that Oikawa wouldn’t hurt himself on the glass. That was the last thing he wished for. The movement made his head spin and he collapsed, shards piercing his body. Everything looked almost as if it were slow-motion to Oikawa, and his eyes widened as his lover fell. 

“NO!” 

Oikawa screamed, grabbing Futakuchi in his arms as he sobbed. 

“Oh my god, Kenji, Kenji, Kenji....”

He cradled his lover in his arms, watching in shock as he stared at the multiple cuts on Futakuchi’s body. 

“No, no, please...”

Suddenly, Futakuchi coughed violently, glass getting forced out of his mouth along with blood. The pieces hit the floor and shattered, like Oikawa's heart. The sight was enough to make him sob; Oikawa gasped and clutched Futakuchi’s body closer. 

“Kenji, oh my god, we need to get you to hospital. Now.” 

Futakuchi gave him a weak smile, and let himself lose consciousness in Oikawa’s arms. 

—

Oikawa hated hospitals. 

The smell. The bleached white walls. The footsteps and chattering he could hear echoing across the maze of corridors. 

Oikawa really hated hospitals. 

The smell of Futakuchi’s blood was still on his hands, despite having cleaned them. When he looked down at his palms, all he could see was red. It made his stomach churn. He prayed for Futakuchi. 

“Kenji, Kenji, Kenji...” He chanted his boyfriend’s name, hoping that it would make things better, that by some God-given miracle his boyfriend would walk out of that room, bright-eyed and grinning, running into his arms with a kiss, reassuring him that everything was fine. Or that by some divine intervention he would wake up, Futakuchi sleeping soundly and snoring softly next to him in their bed, and realize that this was all some nightmare.

He stared at the set of doors in front of him, hoping, wishing, _praying_ , that Futakuchi would walk out of them, smiling, all better. 

The clock ticked on, agonizingly slow as the lamp above the operation room stayed lit. 

“Please, please, _please_ be all right…” Oikawa could hear the whispering between the patients and nurses who passed, the solemn and pitiful looks bystanders gave him. He ignored the pointed stares in his direction and focused on the set of doors looming ahead of him. 

He could only remember one clear memory in his mind as he waited in dread. 

\---

_“Tooru-san, pass me some sour gummies will you?”_

_“Where?” Oikawa reached out to the table next to him, not bothering to take his eyes off his phone._

_“Over there.” Oikawa looked up, sighing, and saw the packet just out of reach. He groaned and stood up, walked over to the packet, and held it up in his hand. Futakuchi smiled expectantly and offered out his hand._

_“Magic word?”_

_The younger_ _boy huffed, shutting his mouth adamantly and the pair engaged themselves in a staring contest until Futakuchi sighed. “Please?” He tried again with a pout._

_Oikawa laughed and opened the packet himself. “Which one do you want?”_

_“The whole packet. Give it to me, I can catch it!”_

_Oikawa blatantly refused and sifted through the sweets, occasionally popping a few in his mouth. “Delicious.”_

_“Hey, Tooru-san!” At the mention of his name, he sighed and picked one out casually out of the gummy packet and placed it on top of Futakuchi’s awaiting palm._

_“Hey, what-”_

_“Here.” On Futakuchi’s hand sat a sticky, half-melted Haribo ring. Futakuchi blinked and instinctively tried to eat it when Oikawa intervened._

_“Dude! No reaction? I gave you a ring!”_

_Futakuchi shrugged as he chomped on the sweet. “It’s yummy. A bit too sticky, but yummy.”_

_“You’re very welcome! Ugh, I have to find another one…” Oikawa muttered as he scavenged around the packet in search of a new ring while the other brunet continued to chew._

_“Aha! Got it! Give me your hand, Kenji.” Oikawa had managed to find a green one and Futakuchi laughed as he offered his palm. Oikawa grinned and slid the ring on the ring finger._

_Well, he tried. The ring stubbornly refused to move further down Futakuchi’s finger, and Oikawa’s goofy smile melted off his face._

_“That’s not very helpful.” Futakuchi shrugged again and leaned down and bit the ring off his finger. Oikawa yelped and withdrew his hand quickly. “Kenji! I’m a volleyball player, you know! And so are you! You could’ve injured our fingers or something!”_

_“Sorry.” A half-hearted apology._

_Oikawa rolled his eyes and sat back on the sofa, huffing, not sparing a glance at Futakuchi’s direction until he felt a warm weight and the smell of strawberry shampoo against his shoulder. He turned his head, surprised, and saw Futakuchi had leaned against him, huddling against his side. Said boy looked up, shyly smiled and went back to taking another sweet from the packet in Oikawa’s hand._

_Immediately, any hostility left Oikawa’s face and he wrapped an arm around the other boy, kissing the top of his head gently, breathing deeply as he took in the younger boy’s scent. Futakuchi sighed contentedly and allowed Oikawa to run his hands through chestnut hair and over his pale skin. He let out a laugh when Oikawa brushed his fingertips over his ticklish spot near the back of his neck and swatted his hand away playfully. The older boy drew his hand back, chuckling and returned to holding Futakuchi in his arms. They sat in sweet silence._

_“Tooru-san?”_

_“Hm?” He hummed back absent-mindedly._

_“Will you get me a ring when we’re both, like, properly, properly grown up?” Oikawa nuzzled against soft hair and smiled._

_“Yes.”_

_“Preferably non-sticky and not melting?”_

_Oikawa laughed._

_“Yes.”_

**"I promise."**

_Futakuchi contemplated his words for a second._

_“Actually, scratch that. Don’t bother with rings. Buy me a packet of sour gummies and I’ll be more than happy to be yours.”_

_Oikawa snorted, happiness filling up his chest as the younger boy’s words. They lit up his entire world; anything and everything which Futakuchi did made Oikawa fall harder. The boy, perhaps an angel from the way he gave a beautiful smile which shouldn’t be offered so carelessly, was beautiful. He was the only thing shining in Oikawa’s eyes. As they sat next to each other, he felt warmth seeping through him and he turned Futakuchi’s head to face him, smiled endearingly, and kissed him._

_The other’s lips tasted of sour gummies._

_Futakuchi smiled against his lips as he shut his eyes, leaning closer and pressing his forehead against Oikawa’s. Oikawa kissed him, savouring the taste of Futakuchi’s lips and the feeling of the younger boy’s lips slotted perfectly with his._

_He was truly in love._

\---

Oikawa clutched onto the velvet box in his hand, tears threatening to spill as he waited in agony. A packet of sour gummies, half-crushed lay on his lap, waiting. 

After what felt like days, weeks, months and years, the door opened and the surgeon stepped out. Oikawa stood immediately, trying to rush inside the operation room to see Futakuchi. An arm blocked his path, stopping Oikawa in his tracks. 

_No._

The surgeon looked at him, grim and grave. The pain in his eyes was evident, the message loud and clear.

“No.”

_Please._

The man in front of him bowed his head low.

_“No.”_

“It was already too late when he arrived at the hospital. He had lost an awful lot of blood by the time he got here. All of his internal organs were cut and badly damaged. His blood type, to make things worse, was AB negative. Very rare. It was a miracle that he didn’t die the moment he reached here; we tried to save him, we really did…” 

Oikawa wasn’t listening.

He wasn’t ready. 

He hadn’t expected this the moment he had gotten home. 

He didn’t want to believe it. 

“I want to see him.” 

The surgeon looked surprised, and slightly concerned. “Are you sure? Don’t you want a little more-”

“I want to see him.” 

The two stood in silence until the surgeon ushered Oikawa into the operation room quietly. 

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Oikawa didn’t register the voice or the footsteps fading behind him, the door clicking shut. 

Right now, it was Oikawa and Futakuchi. 

Oikawa stared at his boyfriend’s unmoving body, the once smooth skin covered with multiple cuts, mouth shut almost as if to hide the scars inside. Oikawa wished for a single blink, or a rise and fall in his chest, or for Futakuchi to open his eyes completely and smile. 

Something that Oikawa would never see again. 

A gutteral sob left Oikawa’s throat, followed by another, then another as tears rolled down his face. His heart was being torn apart as his world, his light, his _everything_ , was gone. Everything was being shattered into pieces, just like the glass which had killed Futakuchi. The dreadful truth struck him like a shocking bolt of lightning. 

Oikawa wasn’t ready to lose his entire universe. No, he came preparing to give Futakuchi his everything, and now…. 

_The boy he had always seen as an angel really was one._

  
  


Oikawa wailed in anguish as the truth stabbed at him, Futakuchi lying still in front of him. He wished for all of it to be a cruel joke, a bad dream, wished for Futakuchi to sit up, offering a bright grin, one he had longed to see all the time in Argentina. 

“This isn’t real.”

He counted to five. 

Nothing happened. 

His breathing quickened and his body threatened to crumble when he realised that all of this was the simple reality. “No, no, no…” His sobs echoed through the whole room, loud and clear, with no one who could comfort him like Futakuchi, and said boy was the reason for his tears. 

“Please, Kenji, please don’t leave me…” There were no replies. Oikawa fell to his knees, pain, confusion, anger and the bitter truth hitting him like a truck. The true weight of the words which he had uttered crushed him all over again, breaking him and pulling him apart.

_Don’t leave me._

Oikawa leaned down, took in the beauty of Futakuchi’s face even after death, long lashes falling over his shut eyes. He kissed him, shaking, as he pressed his lips against cold lips. 

“Kenji.” Another kiss. “I-” Oikawa kissed over the boy’s closed eyelids, pressed his mouth against the other’s forehead, kissed both cheeks as he let his own tears drip onto Futakuchi’s face. 

He repeated the kisses, each one slow and gentle, yet desperate to remember the taste of Futakuchi, to remember the feel of Futakuchi’s skin under his touch. 

It was going to be his last time being able to kiss him like this, to hold him in his arms. 

Oikawa kissed him to make up for all the times he couldn’t, and for all the times when he should’ve.

For all the times they were far apart, for all the times which weren’t long enough for Oikawa and Futakuchi. 

For all the times they missed together, and for all the times when they were together but never made the best use of. 

For all the times they had in the past, and for all the times they were never going to have in the future.

He took in a shaky breath and landed another kiss on Futakuchi’s lips. 

_“I love you.”_

After what seemed like hours of agony, the surgeon returned with a few nurses. They offered sympathetic coos and whispers to him, patting his back as he cried, heart being wrenched out from the hurt.

“Kenji, kenji, kenji…” 

A gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“We have more patients coming in. We need you to grieve outside.” An authoritative tone. Oikawa could barely stand on his own, body refusing to cooperate and instead stayed on the floor, legs useless. The nurses held him by the arms, hauling him up, leaving any worthless pride left battered on the ground. 

Before they left the room, Oikawa took out a velvet box from his pocket, the same as the one he had held before, and took out a gold ring. No fancy embellishments, just a gold ring with two words engraved on the inside. He slipped it on to Futakuchi’s finger, holding his hand one last time, intertwining their fingers together because he didn’t want to let go. After a moment’s thought, he took out the sour gummy packet he had been holding on to and placed it in the other hand. 

“I kept my promise.” 

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very, very sorry for all the pain I inflicted on Kenji T^T  
> Nearly the end, I promise. Bear with me for a bit longer.  
> Thank you for reading!


	9. Regret

_“It’s your fault.”_

Oikawa felt a sharp sting against his cheek and he fell down, the side of his face flaring with immediate pain. A red welt blossomed on his cheek, like burgundy paint in water.

“Akaashi, stop.” Kuroo grabbed the younger boy’s arm which was about to swing again. Oikawa looked down, guilt and anger crawling over his skin. He couldn’t meet Akaashi’s eyes. 

“He died because of _you_.” 

“Akaashi. Stop.” Kuroo’s tone was commanding. 

“He deserved better. Better than you.”

“Akaashi, please, you’re hurting him.” 

“Well, he deserves it, doesn’t he?” His voice was cold. Tears fell silently down his cheeks, lamenting for his one love in life. Oikawa licked his dry lips. His voice shook as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, Akaashi.” 

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it, Oikawa! ‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him back! ‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean anything, you cold-hearted asshole!”

The room fell dead silent. Kuroo bowed his head to hide his face with his messy black fringe. Akaashi stared down at Oikawa on the floor.

Akaashi opened his mouth and the words Oikawa had been telling himself for the past few days tumbled out. 

_“You should’ve died instead of him.”_

Oikawa nodded. He was in no shape to disagree, because all of it was true, Kenji didn’t deserve to die. 

_“You should’ve died.”_

Oikawa continued to nod. Akaashi’s hard voice started to shake. 

“You never deserved him.” Akaashi was trembling now, his words breaking down. 

Kuroo laid a hand on his shoulder, looking concerned. Oikawa still stayed silent. 

The volume died. And then, 

“WHY AREN’T YOU ANGRY?” Akaashi exploded, words coming out in a flurry of emotions which couldn’t be registered at once. “WHY WON’T YOU SAY THAT ALL OF IT ISN’T TRUE? YOU LOVED HIM!” 

Kuroo stared at him in alarm. “Hey, Akaashi.” Akaashi swatted his arm away, fully crying. 

“WHY AREN’T YOU SCREAMING BACK AT ME? WHY WON’T YOU SHOUT BACK? WHY WON’T YOU TELL ME THAT ALL OF WHAT I SAID ISN’T TRUE, THAT YOU TRIED HARD TO BE A GOOD BOYFRIEND DESPITE THE CIRCUMSTANCES, THAT IT WASN’T COMPLETELY YOUR FAULT-”

“But it is my fault, isn’t it?” Arrows and spears protruded from Oikawa’s chest and back, each word of Akaashi piercing him, bloody holes in his heart because no one but Futakuchi could fill up the cold, cold void. 

_Akaashi must want me to retaliate_ , Oikawa thought briefly to himself. 

Because Oikawa was being too quiet, and Akaashi knew that deep down he must be an idiot for saying such things to someone who was grieving like this. His good conscience told him to give Oikawa a chance to redeem himself, to say that he isn’t the piece of villainy that Akaashi painted him out to be.

_But what was the use in hiding the truth?_

“It is my fault,” Oikawa spoke louder, “Everything’s my fault. I would’ve done anything for him, fetched him gold from the other end of the world for him, dived to the deepest pits of the oceans for him, but I didn’t treat him like how a boyfriend should.”

He paused.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure on how else to say this, but you’re right. I didn’t deserve him. But I really did love him.” 

“But so did I.” Akaashi retorted. 

“I know. And I think you would’ve been better for him too.” 

Oikawa bowed his head so that his forehead touched the floor in regret and apology, wishing that the ground would swallow him up and kill him. 

“I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH AKAASHI T^T  
> I slightly regret not making AkaFuta get together, but it can't be helped :/  
> Thank you for reading :)


	10. Epilogue

He sat alone in the flat for two.

He sat on the sofa, staring meaninglessly at a blemish on the wall, stark white surrounding it and making it stand out in an ugly manner.

He stood up after hearing the microwave ping, and walked over sluggishly to take out his meal he wasn’t even planning on eating. He made himself uncomfortable on the hard wooden seat, and looked up with a sigh when his phone screen lit up. 

  
  


**Iwa-chan:** Have you eaten? 

**Iwa-chan:** Everyone’s worried

  
  


Oikawa stared blankly at the message and turned off his phone, and proceeded to throw away the food he had barely touched into the trash. 

He wished for Futakuchi to be back. 

He wished for lazy mornings with the sun lighting up Futakuchi’s sleeping face, Oikawa just staring quietly as the other slumbered peacefully. He wished that he could actually go and buy a present on no particular day because he wanted to see the surprised, then delighted look on Futakuchi’s face and when the other asked why, he could reply “Just because.” How he wanted to hear the patter of footsteps as he jiggled the keys in the lock, to hear a warm, a little tired “Welcome home” responding to his “I’m home” and to make him smile, even if it looked fatigued. And how he wanted to embrace the younger gently, to give him warmth and kindness and love. 

How he wanted him back.

But he didn’t even have him anymore. 

Oikawa would wait endlessly. He didn’t want to acknowledge that it was all pointless, waiting for his love who was never coming back.

It was all so, so painful, and Oikawa just didn’t want to accept the fact that Futakuchi was dead. But everytime he saw a photo of Futakuchi, bright, smiling, angelic Futakuchi, everything broke down and it left Oikawa with an ache in his chest, which could never be fixed. 

Oikawa, after looking at the clock and deciding that it was time for him to retire to his bed and spend another night filled with nightmares and painful loneliness, trudged back to their- his bedroom. He switched the ceiling lights on, grimacing at the glow-in-the-dark stars, which had fallen off the ceiling, Futakuchi choosing them in the first place because he knew that Oikawa thought they would ‘look cool’.

\---

_ “Look, look! Doesn’t the fairy lights and the glow in the dark stars make the whole room really pretty? It looks like space.” _

_ “Yes. It looks beautiful.” _

_ “...”  _

_ “Please, don’t say anything embarrassing.”  _

_ “Aw dammit, I was gonna say that you look more beautiful than all the stars in the universe!” _

_ “You just said it.” _

_ “Oops. But you’re blushing.” _

_ “Shut up, Tooru!” _

\---

Oikawa collapsed on the bed, too big and lonely and cold to sleep alone. But he just had to bear it, because no one could fill up that large space reserved for his Futakuchi and Futakuchi only. He bitterly bit on his lip and curled up on the mattress.

Silence. 

And then, 

He remembered.

Oikawa rolled off the bed and walked over to the bookshelf, empty now because all of the magazines, lovingly stored with sticky notes protruding from the pages with Oikawa featured on them was too hard for him to bear. It brought back on how much the other had loved him, despite Oikawa treating him terribly. He stood, tall enough to not go on his tiptoes, and reached for the rectangular metal can on top of it, then brought it back to the bed, sitting down. He unscrewed the lid. 

Marbles. 

Three marbles sat at the bottom of the container, having escaped Futakuchi’s despair from before, looking dark and gloomy because the light couldn’t reach them. A blue, a red and a green, no more of the happy yellows which used to be there.

And yet, as Oikawa watched, the glass was still polished and candescent, and it grimly made Oikawa’s mind flashback to the time he saw Futakuchi, lifeless, in hospital. Because despite being covered in scars, he was still an ethereal being; he was divine in every sense.

The marbles were so unlike him, and yet so much like Futakuchi. Perfect and beautiful, just like him. Hiding at the bottom of the box.

Futakuchi was no treasure chest waiting to be opened, even though Oikawa was sure he was worth more than precious diamonds and gold. He was a secret safe trying to stay closed until the end, so that the light wouldn’t hit him and to show his emotion so that he wouldn’t worry Oikawa in the slightest. 

How he wished he noticed. How he wished that his own ego didn’t prevent him from going back, how he wished that he could turn back time.

Oikawa took one of the very few left in the container; an emerald green one, sparkling, just like Futakuchi’s eyes before he left for Argentina. 

His Futakuchi. His Futakuchi’s eyes, shining with mirth, enchanting. 

He wanted to see them again.

Oikawa stared at the marble for a few moments longer, taking in the beauty until it didn’t seem as bright as the before anymore. He lowered his hand, the marble dimmed and dulled, sparkle extinguished. He could remember the last time he saw Futakuchi’s open eyes was the time he found him in their flat, swallowing the colourful glass, sobbing, trying to move away from Oikawa. His eyes were dull, scared, frightened and it pained Oikawa’s heart every time, because it wasn’t what he wished for.

He closed his palm, marble cold inside his hand. 

He tilted his head a little bit higher, and brought his closed fist up to his mouth. He parted them, a tiny gap between his upper and lower lips. Everything stilled.

  
  


His grip loosened.

  
  
  


A few moments later, he swallowed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH THIS IS THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER OH MY GOD  
> Thank you for reading :333


	11. Truth

The call connected and a rather annoyed face of Iwaizumi Hajime appeared on screen, frowning. 

“What is it? And did you have to call me until I woke up? It's like, 3am here.”

“Yes! I want to practice my proposal speech for Kenji, help me, Iwa-chan!” Iwaizumi groaned.

“Why _me_? Ask someone else! Hanamaki! He ships you guys like crazy! He's the official number one fan for you guys! Or Matsukawa! He’s good at this kind of romantic stuff! I’m busy!”

“No! Iwa-chan please.” Oikawa pouted, and Iwaizumi groaned, because he knew that once Oikawa started, he would never stop. 

“Fine, but if it sucks, I’m leaving.”

“What no! Iwa-chan, have some faith in me!”

“Just shut up and start, you dumbass!” Oikawa cowered away, almost worried that a volleyball was going to fly out of nowhere.

“I’m sorry!” Oikawa cleared this throat, looked down and brought a piece of paper up to his face, shielding his screen. 

Iwaizumi facepalmed, and then he saw the confused face of Oikawa, and straightened. 

“I can’t see you. Kenji won’t either. If you’re going to propose with a script in your hands then I don’t think you should propose at all.” 

“I told you, this is a practice! Also, since when did you and Kenji get close enough to address each other on a first-name basis? He was talking about you the other day and from the looks of it, he admires you an awful lot.” Oikawa huffed and crossed his arms over his chest like an angry toddler and Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“Yes, we’ve gotten pretty friendly with each other over the last few times we’ve met. He’s very sweet, I can see why you like him. Are you jealous of me?”

“No!” 

“Are you sure?”

An awkward pause. 

“Well, okay! I might be a bit jealous, because I don’t know, because Kenji’s my boyfriend? Not yours? You know? And I don’t appreciate the fact that he admires you so openly but never mentions that kind of stuff to me?” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. 

“Oikawa, all he does when we’re together is talk about how amazing and - I find this difficult to believe sometimes - handsome you are. He loves you a lot. And by that, I mean, a lot.”

Oikawa froze, making Iwaizumi almost think that he has bad wifi, but when he realised that his childhood friend only froze out of shock he made sure to screenshot Oikawa’s indescribable face to file away for blackmail. 

“I - I’m not sure whether to be mad at the fact that you indirectly insulted me or to be absolutely overjoyed at the fact that Kenji loves me.” 

“I have a pretty good suggestion.”

“What?” 

“Neither of the above, and start your speech.” 

“Iwa-chan!” 

“Hurry up.” 

Oikawa stuck out his tongue at his childhood best friend and lowered the paper down to a satisfactory level. 

“Go.”

Oikawa breathed in. 

_“Kenji, first of all, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being there for you. I know that I really am a terrible boyfriend, but before you can actually say that to my face, I want to tell you something._

_I want to become the best volleyball player. That was the reason why I had to leave you. I just wanted to prove that even if I’m no genius, I can still win over Ushiwaka-chan and Tobio, and everyone else. I was planning not to come back to Japan until I became one. But I felt like I couldn’t do it without you by my side. I know it sounds pathetic but it’s true._

_The first time I met you, I only thought of you as a cheeky, bad-mouthed kid. But when I bumped into you on this random day, nothing special, just you and me buying sour gummies, I felt the whole world change. After that, we just ended hanging out together, and you drew me in._

_We ended up getting really close. You were so perfect. It was impossible not to fall in love with you. On the day of graduation, and I know you still hate me for doing this, I ran to your school after I finished my graduation and did the goodbyes with my friends and my kouhai. I ran over, catching you while you were crying discreetly about your third years leaving. You looked beautiful even as you cried. I ran over, and asked whether we could date."_

A faint smile graced Oikawa's lips as he continued.

_"When you said yes, I felt like the happiest man in the universe. And then, you kissed me. It makes me smile everytime I remember. You still agreed to be with me, and nothing could’ve made me happier._

_A few months afterwards, I left for Argentina. And at first, I thought everything was going to be okay._

_But I believe that this arrangement isn’t good for both of us. I missed you. I like to think that you missed me._

_I saved up in Argentina doing part-time jobs before I actually gained fame. I didn’t want to use up the money I got from volleyball because I had to use it for, well volleyball. And it would suck if I just bought everything to give you and couldn’t pay for a plane ticket? I mean, that would be stupid._

_I asked every single female friend I know on jewellery and rings, because honestly? I was clueless. And me being me? I wanted it to be a surprise. I’m actually surprised I kept the secret for a long time, you know? And me being absolutely in love with you made me want to think of every little surprise I could do for you to make you happy._

_I know after leaving you alone like this, even if I had an excuse of saying that I was busy with volleyball and my part-time jobs, it was not something a boyfriend should do."_

Oikawa's voice shook.

_"I know that you might not want me anymore, and I’m perfectly aware of that. But I just wanted to say this to you. You can obviously say no. I don’t want to force this upon you. I know it’s selfish, but I love you. I love you so much. I don’t want to let you go.I love you more than anyone else in the world._

_That’s why, I want you to be by my side forever. I want you to be there for me, and I want to be there for you. I can’t live without you. I only realised once I left. And now, I want it to change._

_So will you, Kenji, come with me to Argentina?_

_I won’t leave you like this again, I promise. I love you so much, I can’t handle being without you again. So, Kenji,_

_**Will you marry me?”** _

Iwaizumi went silent on the other end of the call, and Oikawa’s smile wavered. 

“Was it bad?”

Iwaizumi shook his head slowly. “That was…. Actually good.” 

Oikawa looked relieved. “Thank you.” 

“I think he would like that.” 

Oikawa laughed.

**“I hope he does, too.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH OH MY GOD IT'S THE END OF THE STORY  
> This is just an extra chapter hehe  
> Thank you for reading, I hope this was worth your time :D  
> Thank you so much!


End file.
